The Land of Might Have Been
by HopefulR
Summary: #6 in the Reconnecting series. A continuation of the storyline of E2, in the Reconnecting universe. Lorian's Enterprise didn't cease to exist, but it paid a price.
1. Part I

**The Land of Might-Have-Been  
Story #6 in the Reconnecting Series  
**by HopefulR

Genre: Trip/T'Pol romance, drama, AU, character death  
Rating: PG-13, for language  
Archive: Please ask me first.  
Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_ is the property of CBS/Paramount. All original material herein is the property of its author.  
Spoilers: Through "Home," plus a bit of info from "Borderland." Takes place while _Enterprise_ is still in Spacedock during the refit.  
Summary: Sequel to my story "Rejoicing." Lorian's _Enterprise_ didn't cease to exist, but it paid a price.

A/N: This story started off in the Reconnecting (more or less canon) universe, then galloped off on its own into AU, so I gave it its head. Thankee to slj91 and Jenna for feedback.

WARNING: Emotional roller coaster ride ahead. Seat belts, everyone.

* * *

**The Land of Might-Have-Been**

_Part I_

_May 2154  
__Spacedock, orbiting Earth_

Twenty-six hours down, one hundred forty-two to go. Trip didn't know how he was possibly going to survive this torture.

T'Pol was on assignment. Gone. For a whole_ week_.

Starfleet had packed their newly-minted Commander T'Pol off on some lame show-and-tell tour of the colonies in the system—which were feeling particularly squirrelly about Vulcans these days, in the wake of the Xindi threat. The idea was, when they laid eyes on a gen-yoo-wine _Vulcan_ Starfleet officer, they'd relax a bit regarding Earth's standoffish, snooty, know-it-all mentors. At the very least, they'd find T'Pol more personable than, say, a cranky stone-face like Soval. Not to mention easier on the eyes.

But Trip was already going stir-crazy after only a day. Last night after he got off duty, he'd headed to her quarters for their nightly after-work chat, and was reaching for the door chime before he remembered she wasn't there. He'd gone inside anyway and sulked for a while. He lit a few of her candles, settled himself on a meditation pillow, and breathed in the faint, sweet scent of her as he watched the shadows dancing on the walls of the empty cabin.

Trip knew he was being a pathetic baby about the whole thing. It was only a week. But...he missed her. He missed working with her, bouncing ideas off her, sparring with her, sharing meals with her, sitting in companionable silence with her. T'Pol was his best friend now, just as much as Captain Archer was.

Hell, the captain was probably missing her too. First Officer, vital to ship's operations, all that. Perfectly understandable. Of course, the captain didn't suffer from the extra little complication of being in love with her.

Trip had succeeded amazingly well, he thought, in locking down that part of his heart and focusing on his friendship with T'Pol. The only time it got really tough was late at night, as he was drifting off to sleep. That was when thoughts and images would come, unbidden...haunting him about a future they were on the verge of sharing together, but would never have now.

Damn it all, he hadn't figured on falling even more in love with her _after_ she got married.

Today, Trip was determined _not_ to make himself crazy. He would stay busy. Really busy. Work Till You Fall On Your Face busy.

He began Hour Twenty-Seven shoehorned into the tiny service conduit behind the antimatter injector assembly in engineering, already grimy, surrounded by tools and replacement parts, happily oblivious to the outside world. The hum of the power relays drowned out his restless thoughts of T'Pol. Most of them, anyway.

He was banging away at a frozen connector when, suddenly, Rostov was dragging him out and hustling him toward the launch bay, babbling that the other _Enterprise_ was here.

Lorian's _Enterprise_.

It all happened so quickly, Trip hardly had time to make any sense of it. First he was catching a glimpse through a viewport of a Xindi Aquatic ship floating off Spacedock, with Earth rotating majestically beyond...then watching the mortally-wounded, century-old NX-01 emerge from the Aquatic ship's enormous bay, and literally fall to pieces, as escape pods and shuttles abandoned her...then charging down the corridors toward the launch bay against a rising tide of ragged, radiation-burned survivors being led to sickbay by repair crews and _Enterprise_ personnel.

He waited forever, it seemed, as the launch bay pressurized around the last craft to dock, an ancient, battle-scarred Shuttlepod One. He was through the door as soon as the gauge read green, throwing open the pockmarked hatch. He barely registered the beautiful, dark-haired young woman who gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement as she exited past him, addressing someone who had come into the bay after him. "There are 103 of us in all. Has anyone done a head count?..."

Then Trip was inside the shuttle, trying to absorb the emotional wallop of seeing Lorian again. His son was battered like the rest of them; the fight with the Kovaalans outside that subspace corridor must have been devastating. He looked exhausted, and a lot older than Trip remembered from—God, had it been only a couple of months ago?

Lorian rose from the pilot's chair and gripped Trip's arms—just holding on, for a long moment. "Father."

Trip was startled by the emotion he saw in his son's face. Relief, gladness...but also a shadow of utter grief. There was something terribly wrong—something worse than the old _Enterprise_ giving up the ghost. "Lorian? What is it, son?"

In answer, Lorian led him to a petite, unmoving figure in the back of the shuttle, carefully bundled in blankets. Trip could see shoulder-length gray hair, upswept pointed ears, a frail, long-fingered hand with skin like aged parchment. He felt a shock knock him back as he realized she must be—

"It's Mother," Lorian said quietly. "I don't think she has much time."

They didn't wait for a stretcher. Trip carried her to sickbay, with Lorian at his side.

* * *

Sickbay was a hub of controlled chaos, packed with the most critically injured of Lorian's people—radiation burns, broken bones, decompression sickness. The rest of them lined the corridors outside. Karyn Archer circulated tirelessly among them, offering reassuring words and comforting touches, passing out the food that had started arriving from the mess hall. Jonathan Archer watched his great-granddaughter with a pride he knew he had no right to feel, but felt anyway. 

"Forced landing of a crippled, century-old starship on a planet surface. Pretty impressive," he commented, as he helped Karyn settle a group of youngsters with their meals. All the children seemed to be taking the death of their ship in stride; they were assisting the grown-ups as much as the _Enterprise_ crew was.

"Pretty scary," Karyn responded. "It's a miracle the ship didn't break apart."

"No miracle," Archer said. "We Archers are notoriously good pilots."

That coaxed a little smile out of her, before she continued. "We still had a few sensors functioning, after we put the fires out. We saw the Expanse reverting back to normal space. That's when we knew your mission had succeeded."

"_Our_ mission," Archer corrected her. "We couldn't have done it without your help."

Karyn got a bit misty-eyed at that. Archer realized—their mission had lasted 117 years. _They must all be so tired._

Karyn collected herself, and went on—a good first officer, to the last. "Our food was just running out when the Xindi ship spotted us. I can hardly believe it was just two days ago. We were lucky we didn't lose anyone." She sobered as she looked toward sickbay. "Not yet, anyway."

Archer watched as she edged over to the doors, peering through until she could see Lorian, standing with Trip outside the bio-scanner. "T'Pol was closest to the breach—she got the heaviest dose of radiation. We couldn't get to her right away..." She stopped herself with a frustrated sigh.

"How is Lorian holding up?" Archer asked.

"He's hardly slept since the Kovaalans left us for dead," she replied, keeping her eyes on Lorian. "All the injuries, trying to keep life support going, supplies running low...and T'Pol."

"Sounds like a Tucker I know," Archer nodded. "No sleep until all is well."

Karyn turned back to Archer, finally letting her officer persona fall away, revealing a worried young woman. "Sometimes I wonder if he's gotten any sleep in the last eighty-five years."

-----

Lorian and Trip stood by as the bio-scan bed bearing the unconscious T'Pol glided out of the scanning chamber. As Phlox studied the data that flashed up on the diagnostic screen, Trip shook his head, still stunned. "Nobody ever told me she was still alive."

Lorian's voice was quiet and even. "Seeing you again after almost ninety years, and then losing you again, would have been difficult for her." He touched Trip's arm, so Trip would look at him. "She missed you every day, after you died. She loved you very much."

_You just don't want to admit that, under the right circumstances, you could have feelings for me..._

Trip swallowed hard. It felt both wonderful, and heartbreakingly sad, to know that T'Pol could love him, did love him, in another life. A life that would never be his.

Phlox was beside them now, his face somber. "The radiation damage to her vital organs was too extensive. Her system is beginning to shut down. I'm afraid all I can do at this point is make her comfortable."

Lorian nodded, his expression unchanged—to any observer except Trip. Trip was realizing that he could read Lorian's emotional nuances in much the same way he read T'Pol. And Phlox's confirmation was hitting Lorian hard, no matter how calm he was keeping his outward demeanor. "How long?" he asked.

"A day, perhaps less," Phlox replied.

"Could we move her to T'Pol's quarters?" Trip asked. "It would put her more at ease." He caught Phlox's eye, conveying what he really meant: it would put Lorian more at ease.

Phlox nodded. "That would be fine."

Lorian hesitated. "But...your T'Pol...?"

"She's on assignment—she's Starfleet now," Trip told him. "I'll fill you in after we get your mom settled."

* * *

In the soft, candlelit serenity of T'Pol's quarters, with Earth a blue-white glow outside the viewport, Trip felt like he was in a dreamworld...the Land of Might-Have-Been...where he had a son who was three times as old as he was, and a wife he'd never married, but still loved with his whole heart. 

He had thought the hardest thing he would ever do was to watch T'Pol marry another man. But could he do this now? Watch this life slip away? Lose her again?

For his answer, all Trip needed to do was look at Lorian, tucking the covers more securely around his mother. Trip could see the quiet anguish behind Lorian's placid Vulcan façade. He was losing someone he'd loved for a century, the only family he'd known since he was a boy. Trip resolved to bear any pain if it would ease his son's suffering.

Phlox had injected T'Pol with something to make sure she would stay pain-free. He had told them what to expect: she would probably drift in and out, she might be delirious, she might not recognize them, they needn't be alarmed. Then he had departed, leaving only Archer and Karyn with them.

Archer noticed that, since they'd found out about T'Pol, Karyn had stayed close by Lorian, her concern for him—and Archer suspected, her affection—unmistakable. Karyn put a gentle hand on Lorian's shoulder now, guiding him to a chair next to T'Pol's bunk. "Everyone is being well cared for. I'll look after them. Don't worry."

Lorian put his hand briefly on hers in silent gratitude.

Archer gave Trip's arm a reassuring squeeze. "Call if you need anything." He ushered Karyn out.

Lorian pulled a second chair over to the bunk, nearest T'Pol's head, and gestured for Trip to sit. Trip shook his head. "That's your place."

Lorian merely raised an eyebrow. Trip relented and sat, with Lorian taking the seat beside him.

-----

As Archer and Karyn headed down the corridor toward the turbolift, he asked, "Does Lorian know how you feel about him?"

Karyn stared at him in surprise, before looking away self-consciously. "Is it that obvious?"

Archer shrugged lightly. "Maybe only to a great-grandfather."

Karyn relaxed a little. "I've loved him my whole life," she sighed. "But he's had the weight of the world on his shoulders since he was fourteen. He's never had time to focus on anything but the mission."

Archer slipped an arm around her shoulders. "The mission's over. You're home. He'll finally have a chance to realize he's a lot more than just commander of _Enterprise_...and you're a lot more than just his first officer."

She gave him a hug. "Thank you, Captain."

"Hey, you need to call me something else. I'm family."

Karyn studied him for a moment. "You're too young for Great-Grandpa...Papa Jonathan? Papa?"

"Papa," Archer smiled. "I like the sound of that." Arm in arm, they continued on.

-----

Trip was studying T'Pol's face, peaceful in sleep. Her dark, flawless beauty had aged to a pale, timeworn fragility, wrinkled and age-spotted, but with an underlying steel that must have sustained her through the decades of a widow's loneliness.

It was strange, trying to untangle his feelings. She was his, and yet not-his. This was the woman who had accepted him, wed him, loved him freely, given him a child. But he would never know this T'Pol. The sadness of that realization was almost unbearable.

He was startled out of his reverie by Lorian's voice. "What's troubling you?"

There was no point trying to hide anything from this kid. "She's not the T'Pol I know," Trip said quietly. "But I still feel like I'm losing her."

"You're not losing your T'Pol," Lorian offered.

Trip rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Things turned out differently after we made it through that subspace corridor." He paused. "Did your mother ever mention a guy named Koss?"

Lorian pondered the question for a moment, then nodded. "Her childhood betrothed. She said very little about him...only that Koss was the destiny she escaped, before she realized you were her destiny."

Trip felt that mixture of sweetness and agony again. "In this timeline, she didn't escape." And he finally told Lorian about T'Pol's marriage.

Lorian listened in stunned silence. Finally he spoke, his voice hushed with sadness. "I never would have thought that your lives would take such a different direction than that of...my parents."

"At least she's back on _Enterprise_," Trip said, trying to ease Lorian's mind. "And we're still friends. Best friends. I think this whole mess with Koss brought us a lot closer than we might have been, _because_ it's all we can have."

Lorian still looked upset. "But...you're still in love with her. You'll _always_ be in love with her."

"What are you, a mind reader?" Trip asked with mock exasperation.

"I'm your son," Lorian said simply.

That got Trip. His guard dropped, and he let his own sadness show. Lorian put a hand on his arm, silently supportive. Trip gripped his son's hand gratefully. In that moment, he felt the connection between them—he finally felt like he and Lorian really were family. "God, I'm glad you made it back here," he said.

Lorian's blue eyes were warm. "I as well, Father."

Trip's gaze drifted back to T'Pol. His voice was wistful when he spoke again. "How'd they get together?"

"My parents?"

Trip nodded. "Did they ever tell you?"

Lorian smiled down at his mother—that same tiny quirk of the lips that T'Pol had dazzled Trip with on a few rare, wonderful evenings. "Of all the stories we would tell the children, that one was always their favorite. Karyn relates the tale in a much more entertaining fashion—"

"You'll do," Trip said softly. "Tell me a story, Lorian."

Lorian nodded and began: "Captain Archer assembled the crew in engineering to break the news that they were stranded 117 years in the past..."

* * *

_February 2037  
__The Expanse_

...Archer softened the crew's shock by giving them a new goal: use _Enterprise's_ unfortunate situation to prevent the first Xindi attack on Earth from ever taking place. He then laid out his plan to make _Enterprise_ a generational ship to ensure their survival, and to complete their new mission.

The captain then formally announced an end to the restriction on crew fraternization; in fact, he encouraged it. The crew reacted to the new parameters with responses ranging from randy enthusiasm to paralyzing shyness. Secret crushes were revealed, and clandestine relationships came out of the closet. The ship was an emotional roller-coaster those first few weeks, with repairs and relationships proceeding apace.

By far the most sought-after catch on the ship was Chief Engineer Charles Tucker III. Half the women on board made advances, from subtle offers of coffee in the mess hall to bald-faced propositions. With admirable grace and unfailing charm, Trip politely declined every overture. It quickly became apparent that he only had eyes for the ship's first officer.

T'Pol's reaction to Trip's intended courtship led to an exercise in mutual stubbornness. For weeks, he would edge closer to her, only to see her shy away like a skittish colt. When duty forced them to work together, she behaved as unpleasantly as possible to him. She almost succeeded in making him throw up his hands and quit...until he realized there was something wrong with her. She was, well, _moody_, that was the only word for it. She was bitchy one moment, withdrawn the next, and more frustrated and volatile with each passing day. It didn't help that she was working impossibly long hours, or hardly eating—Starfleet ration packs were barely fit for human consumption, much less Vulcan.

Trip renewed his campaign to win T'Pol over, using patience and kindness, but she rebuffed every attempt he made to help her. Instead, she isolated herself even further, retreating to her quarters whenever she was off duty. Now he was really worried about her.

A month into their new mission, _Enterprise_ found a Minshara-class planet rich in edible plants and animal life. A contingent from the galley was rushed down to gather up enough foodstuffs to restock the badly depleted stores and fill the now-repaired stasis units.

The next evening, Trip came to T'Pol's quarters, where she holed up every night to choke down what she could of those godawful Starfleet ration packs. Before she could shut the door on him, he presented her with his gift: a fresh salad. He'd put it together himself, carefully choosing the best of the booty that had been gathered planetside.

T'Pol took one look at the salad and promptly burst into tears.

Trip tried not to panic as she retreated to her bunk and folded herself into a back corner, trembling and sobbing. For a moment he felt completely at a loss. _What the hell are you supposed to do when a Vulcan has an emotional meltdown?_

He knew exactly what he _wanted_ to do—take her in his arms and hold her, soothe away whatever was causing her so much pain and fear. But clearly, she didn't want him anywhere near her.

_Well, too damn bad._ There was no way he was going to leave her now.

He approached her slowly, as if she were a wounded deer. Every ragged breath she took tore into his heart like a knife. He knelt beside the bed, not making any move to touch her, and waited.

She caught sight of him and turned away, angrily swiping at her tears, visibly struggling to regain control. "You are...infuriating."

"Why is that?" he asked mildly.

"You think that by continuing to demonstrate your utter suitability to me, I will eventually acquiesce," she retorted.

_Utter suitability._ Trip was charmed by that. Counting it as a small victory, he shrugged. "Just thought you might like some fresh food, is all."

"Why do you persist in this emotional attachment to me?" She glared at him, and he saw confusion as well as anger on her tear-stained face.

He had to smile a little. "It wasn't my idea, T'Pol. Emotional attachment isn't something a person plans. Believe me, the last thing I expected was to fall in love with you."

T'Pol went very still. She stared at him, stricken, her huge brown eyes welling with new tears. Trip caught his breath in dismay. "Is that what you're so afraid of?" he asked. "Me? The way I feel about you?"

She said nothing, but as he watched a tear spill down her cheek, he felt his heart fall with it. He turned away, devastated, rising to leave—

"It's me," she whispered.

He stopped, turning back.

T'Pol swallowed, wiping at her wet face again. "The way you make me..._feel_. I don't know how to..." She frowned, her voice trailing off into an incoherent growl of frustration, her hands knotting into fists. "Vulcans are taught almost from birth how to suppress emotions, but we are given no insight on how to deal with emotions that _cannot_ be suppressed!"

Trip returned to her side. It was finally starting to add up—her mood swings, her outbursts. Something tickled the back of his mind...what Phlox had said about the Vulcans on the _Seleya_. Their ability to control emotions had been destroyed... "The trellium-D did something to you after all, didn't it?" he asked.

She looked trapped for a moment, then ashamed, then simply resigned. "I suffered permanent neurological damage."

"The emotions you've been feeling...you're stuck with them?"

Bleakly, she nodded. Trip's face filled with compassion. "It's not the end of the world, T'Pol. Humans are saddled with emotions too, and we've managed."

"Humans are not Vulcans," T'Pol said impatiently. "Our emotions are remnants of our savage past—intense, powerful, overwhelming. And the feelings _you_ stir in me..." She looked confused, embarrassed—but also captivated. Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. "They are the strongest of all, and the most disconcerting...because I have never experienced them."

It was an extraordinary admission from her...and it sent a thrill through Trip, just to hear it. "You must be scared shitless," he said in genuine sympathy.

He propped his elbows on the bunk and looked up at her, his reassuring blue eyes meeting her huge, frightened brown ones. "You don't have to be scared. What you're feeling isn't evil—it's just new. All you need is time to adjust, and to learn how to handle it."

"I lack the necessary expertise," she confessed, with no little annoyance.

Trip held out his hand. "Then just trust me, darlin'. Let me help you. If you feel yourself falling, I'll hang onto you, and I won't let go. I'll give you everything I've got. We can do this together."

He was no longer simply talking about her errant emotions. And by the way she searched his face, a new wave of tears welling in her eyes, he could tell she knew it.

She stared at his outstretched hand. Then, in one bold move, she took it firmly in hers. They both held on tight.

Trip smiled at her. "That's my girl. Now maybe all you need is an emotional shock absorber—someone to blow off steam with, so you'll feel more in control the rest of the time. I'll make you a deal: if you want to talk, I'm all ears."

She took a deep breath. "I..."

Trip readied himself for a big emotional confession. He nodded, encouraging her.

"I...loathe Starfleet ration packs," T'Pol finished.

Trip grinned. "What else?"

T'Pol continued, her voice firmer. "Crewman Rowe's habit of singing to himself while on duty is highly irritating, because he is tone-deaf."

Trip laughed. "That's it. Let it all out."

T'Pol faltered, then determinedly plowed ahead. "I have missed you. Very much."

Trip's smile softened. He eased onto the bunk beside her, still holding tightly to her hand. "You can cross that off your list, because I'm not goin' anywhere."

He leaned over to give her a quick peck on the forehead...but as soon as his lips touched her skin, he felt a warm, sweet flush ripple through him from head to toe. He shut his eyes as he heard her sigh contentedly.

He suppressed a flinch as he felt her fingers on his cheek. He pulled back a few centimeters, until he could see her face. He saw shyness, hope...but still a little apprehension. Keeping his eyes fixed on hers, he gave her a little nod.

He willed himself to stay still as her fingers lightly explored his face, tracing his strong jawline and ski-slope nose, brushing against his long eyelashes. Wherever she touched him, he felt that same delicious heat crackle through him like an electrical charge. Her fingers came to rest against his lips, barely touching. He took her hand and kissed her fingers, and he felt her shiver.

Now it was his turn. He wiped away her damp tear streaks, then ran his fingers lightly along her elegant, upswept eyebrows and gracefully pointed ears. Her eyes slid shut as she gave in, allowing herself free access to the sensations he was eliciting in her. He gently cupped her chin, and she opened her eyes. This time she didn't shy away, but edged closer to him.

Their lips touched, a feather-light caress, just enough to taste, to feel. It was as if they had never kissed before. Trip deepened the kiss, nudging her lips open, and felt the sweet warmth ignite into a hot roar that flowed through him like a river of fire.

At last she drew back, leaving him breathless, his heart pounding, his head spinning. He saw that she was in much the same state. They were like two kids on their first date. Trip couldn't help but laugh softly.

T'Pol's expression took on an exquisite serenity as she continued to gaze at him. Trip caught his breath as he realized he was seeing genuine love in her eyes for the first time. Love for him. His heart had never felt so full. "Oh, darlin'," he breathed. "I missed you, too."

T'Pol looked down at their clasped hands. "Don't let go."

"I promise," Trip vowed.

* * *

_May 2154  
__Spacedock, orbiting Earth_

"From that day on, you were together," Lorian concluded. "The rest of the crew had particular admiration for the devotion you showed each other. It was a quality to which they all aspired in their own relationships."

Trip rolled his eyes. "Me and T'Pol, relationship role models? Only in an alternate universe."

Beside them, T'Pol stirred, and her eyes fluttered open. Trip saw that their deep sable had grown clouded with age. She saw Lorian first. "You look tired," she observed, her voice a throaty contralto that Trip wasn't used to.

"It's been a long week," Lorian replied lightly. He smiled down at her, clearly pleased to be able to talk with her again.

"Is everything all right?"

"Everyone's fine. Rest easy, Mother."

She looked around, disoriented...and then she caught sight of Trip. Those pale eyes brightened and warmed, and her whole face lit up as she smiled—that same little T'Pol-smile. It made her look decades younger. "Trip?" she murmured. Her brow creased faintly in confusion. "I...I thought I lost you."

Trip shot a glance of momentary panic at Lorian, who mouthed, _Delirium._

Unsure what to do, Trip hesitantly took T'Pol's hand. It felt uncommonly warm—the first thing he found familiar about this woman who was, but wasn't, the T'Pol he knew. It eased his nervousness. "I'm right here, darlin'."

She still looked troubled. "So lonely without you. Not fair...too early."

Her distress melted away the rest of his discomfort. He reached out and stroked her worried brow, soothingly. "It was just a dream. You know I'd never leave you."

At his touch, she relaxed, turning her gaze fully on him, her expression open and unguarded. Trip was hit with the force of a shockwave. She was looking at him with love. Deep, bountiful love.

He had dreamed of seeing it on the face of "his" T'Pol—and had given up hoping he would ever see it, now that she was married to someone else. To see love in this T'Pol's eyes, for him, was overwhelming.

She frowned again, reaching up to touch his face. Her fingers came away wet with his tears. "Why are you crying?"

Trip hadn't even realized. He smiled bashfully at her. "Aw, y'know how I get when you look at me like that."

That seemed to satisfy her. She looked down at their joined hands. "It was an awful dream. I couldn't remember how long it had been since I held your hand, or kissed you..."

Trip squeezed her hand reassuringly. Her fingers were still long and graceful, her skin soft. "Let's make it now."

As he moved toward her, the years faded away, as they sometimes did in dreams...and he found himself gazing down at his beloved dark-haired, sable-eyed T'Pol, her affection for him still shining in her eyes.

Gently, he touched his lips to hers. She tasted as sweet as he remembered. He savored every sensation...the softness of her lips, the warmth of her skin, the sound of her soft sigh as she returned his kiss. He wanted to memorize this moment with this T'Pol, who loved him freely, who belonged to him, and he to her...if only for this moment, in this Land of Might-Have-Been. The memory would need to last his heart a lifetime.

Finally, he pulled away. He stroked her hair, watching idly as it turned gray again...as her deep brown eyes grew pale with age...as her skin thinned and wrinkled, becoming delicate as parchment.

She was looking up at him, with that T'Pol-smile he adored. "How long as it been since I told you I love you, _t'hai'la?_" she murmured.

He kissed her fingers. "It always feels like the first time, darlin'." He felt new tears brimming in his eyes. "How long since I told you?"

She chuckled, low in her throat. "You never stop."

"Then you won't mind me telling you again." He leaned close, his voice an intimate whisper. "I love you, forever."

Lorian held his breath as he watched them. He'd almost forgotten the joy he'd always felt, seeing his parents together. Now he felt suspended between worlds. He knew Trip was talking to two T'Pols—one who had loved him for over a century, and another who would never be able to say the words. He imagined Trip's heart was taking comfort from being with his mother, even as it was breaking.

Trip pulled back from T'Pol, managing a lighthearted grin. "Now all the mushy emotional stuff is out of the way, and you can stop frettin'. We're together. I'm here, Lorian's here." Trip turned—and was startled to see tears sliding silently down Lorian's composed face. Trip took his son's hand and held on, drawing strength from Lorian's calmness, and turned back to smile at T'Pol. "We're not goin' anywhere. No more bad dreams for you, darlin'."

"My Trip. Always the optimist." T'Pol reached out to Lorian, and he took her other hand. She nestled back against her pillow, her gaze shifting contentedly from husband to son.

The three of them stayed that way, as Trip whispered soothing endearments to T'Pol, frequently stroking her cheek or her hair, kissing her hand. He was determined that her last memories would be of her loving family at her side, her husband's soft voice and warm embrace, and the sight of his face aglow with his love for her...

* * *

Afterward, Trip and Lorian just held each other. 

Lorian, who'd had to be so strong for so many, virtually all his life, was finally able to unleash his grief and weep freely, in the safe solace of his father's arms. Trip suspected it had only happened once before, to a fourteen-year-old boy suffering the wrenching loss of another parent, long ago.

Trip wept too, for all that Lorian had lost, and for what he himself would never have, except for this tiny glimpse, here in the dreamland. But now Trip's tears were quieter, because Lorian needed him to be the strong one.

When they finally emerged from T'Pol's quarters much later, exhausted and emotionally spent, Lorian's Vulcan demeanor was back in place. There was a single person waiting in the empty corridor: Commander T'Pol, travel-worn, looking as if she hadn't slept for days. Archer must have sent word to her as soon as Lorian's people were safely aboard.

Trip hung back as T'Pol approached Lorian, her expression a mix of conflicting emotions: overwhelming joy at seeing him alive, grief over the loss of his mother, anxiety over what he would think of her marriage.

Lorian greeted her with a tired smile. "Mother."

"I grieve with you," TPol said softly, her voice thick with emotion.

He nodded. They stood frozen, a meter apart, for an interminable moment—and then they were embracing, as T'Pol blinked back tears of relief and sorrow. Lorian held her close, comforting her. He was the strong one once again.

T'Pol finally met Trip's gaze, her face filling with a longing and sadness that mirrored his own. Trip could see that she was drifting into the dreamworld too, now...gazing at him from the Land of Might-Have-Been.

Wordlessly, she held out a hand. Trip stepped forward and took it, letting her draw him into the embrace. The three of them stood together...never a family, but mourning a family member they all cherished...never together before, but now reunited. If only in the dream.

-tbc-


	2. Part II

**The Land of Might-Have-Been  
Story #6 in the Reconnecting Series  
**by HopefulR

Disclaimer: _Star Trek: Enterprise_ is the property of CBS/Paramount. All original material herein is the property of its author.

* * *

_Part II_

The door to the cabin slid open, spilling light into the dark room. She entered, moving past wisps of smoke that drifted up from the guttered candles, to the bunk where old T'Pol's body lay, her hands folded atop her covers.

There were two chairs placed close together beside the bunk. This is where they must have sat, watching over the old woman in her last hours: Trip—she thought of him as Trip now, in the privacy of her own thoughts—and her son.

When had she started thinking of Lorian as her son? It was the day she and her mother had argued, back on Vulcan, when T'Les had so clearly voiced her disapproval of the idea of "this Commander Tucker" as a suitable mate.

_Think of the shame your children would endure. Assuming that the two of you could have children._

She had thought of Lorian then. But she had been too angry at her mother to share any knowledge of that blissful alternate life she had had with Trip, or of their son, who had known love and respect all his life, never shame. Her son Lorian, who had bravely died, or who had never been at all.

Then Captain Archer's message had reached her a day ago. Now she was here, and Lorian was alive, and old T'Pol was dead. And Trip...the look on Trip's tear-stained face had been almost more than she could bear. She felt joy and loss and relief and regret, and so much pain and longing. She felt as if she were drowning.

T'Pol sank into one of the chairs, gazing down at her older counterpart. Gently, she stroked the gray hair, traced the lines of the serene, aged face. She took one fragile old hand and held it against her own, palm to palm...a mirror image, but an image a century into the future.

What had it been like to live this woman's life? To have a Trip who had come to love her, who had satisfied her unleashed passions, who had bound his heart to hers in marriage? She had felt his child, their child, growing inside her. She had been free to love him...

T'Pol spoke to the placid, still face. "I took your advice. I followed my heart." Absently, she caressed the old woman's hand. "When he told me he had no home to go to, I finally heard my heart telling me it knew what it wanted. You were right...I was frightened by what I was feeling for him. But those emotions also brought me a contentment, a completeness, that I had never known before." Her expression warmed with fond remembrance. "I brought him with me to Vulcan. I was going to show him my world, then reveal what was in my heart..." She sighed. "But my past caught up with me."

She leaned closer, searching the silent countenance of her mirror-self. "What did he tell you? Did he say that he could have turned away from me, but instead chose the more difficult path and remained my friend? Did he tell you how he has supported me, counseled me, shown me the strength within myself, tested me as I find my way? Did he say he is my closest companion, my sparring partner—and yes, my emotional outlet? I knew that would please you."

T'Pol touched her fingers to the old woman's lips. "Did he tell you that he was the first to see me smile?"

She nodded to her sage alter-ego. "You were correct. I can't imagine what my life would be like without him. Every moment I am with him is precious, because I don't know which moment will be the last...the moment when Koss calls me back to Vulcan, never to return."

She felt tears welling in her eyes. "How can I say good-bye to him? How did you say good-bye to your Trip, your _t'hai'la?_ How could you bear to continue on without him?"

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "What did you feel when you saw my Trip...the man you first grew to love, but lost too soon? What did you tell him? Did you speak the words I dare not say, the words that filled your heart, and fill mine now? Did you say 'I love you'?"

A tear slipped down T'Pol's cheek, falling onto the cheek of her tranquil older self. She folded the aged hands neatly over the covers once more, and touched her lips to the pale, cool forehead in farewell. Then she rose and left. The door slid shut behind her, leaving the cabin dark and silent.

But not quite empty.

Trip rose from a shadowy corner, where he'd been kneeling on a meditation pillow in quiet, solitary mourning. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he could hardly breathe.

* * *

Jonathan Archer didn't know what he would find when he reached the Observation Lounge. Karyn and Lorian's people had been in there since yesterday, standing watch for their commander as he stood vigil over his dying mother. Trip had called Archer a few hours ago, when Lorian left to join his crew, but Archer had heard no word since. 

They must all be feeling old T'Pol's loss deeply. She was their matriarch, their only constant as they made their century-long journey back to the present. Archer had decided to look in on them, to see if he could do anything to help ease their grief.

But as he neared the open doorway, he heard...laughter.

He peeked inside. The lounge was filled with the bulk of Lorian's crew—over ninety of them, all but the dozen Phlox still had in sickbay. They were nestled together like contented sardines, the children on their parents' laps, passing around platters of food.

In the center of the room, Karyn and Lorian were perched on a table, shoulder to shoulder, exuding a decidedly non-command dynamic. Lorian looked more relaxed than Archer had ever seen him. The weight of his responsibilities, and his misplaced guilt, must have been crushing. Now, probably for the first time in over half a century, he seemed at peace.

At the moment, Lorian wore an expression of aggrieved patience—the same look Archer had seen T'Pol give Trip a thousand times over the last three years. Lorian and everyone else were listening to Karyn.

"Then T'Pol said, 'There's a simple way to get Lorian out of the room,'" she was saying. "'Simply pick a fight with him and leave. He'll follow you out.' I asked her why. She said, 'Lorian enjoys arguing with you. I've seen it. He's just like his father that way.'"

There was a wave of laughter from the group. Lorian cocked an eyebrow at Karyn, which got another laugh.

Archer smiled in relief. This wasn't a funereal gathering, but a joyful wake.

"So I did what T'Pol said," Karyn continued. "I made up something about the formula for the antimatter mixture being off, and—"

"You made that up?" Lorian interjected, his measured baritone a perfect deadpan. Karyn shrugged, and everyone laughed again. Archer was charmed by the way the two of them played off each other.

"He disagreed, of course," Karyn went on. "And then I walked out on him in mid-argument. Sure enough, he followed me."

"I do not 'enjoy' arguing," Lorian stated evenly.

"Yes, you do," Karyn shot back playfully.

"No, I don't—" Lorian stopped himself, but the damage was done. The room was breaking up again. Drawing himself up, he tried again. "I was merely endeavoring to correct your error."

"Which I made up in the first place," Karyn pointed out.

"Of which I was not aware," Lorian countered.

Karyn grinned. "Your mother was right. You _do_ enjoy arguing with me."

Lorian folded his arms, draping himself in an air of Vulcanesque long-suffering. The crowd loved it. It was clear to Archer that they all regarded Lorian as more than their captain and commander. He was their respected leader, their beloved family patriarch.

Archer also noticed the way Karyn's eyes hardly ever strayed from Lorian, how she sat close enough to him that their shoulders brushed together. Perhaps now he would realize that his efficient first officer and crack starship pilot was also a caring and vivacious young woman. Maybe he'd even return the love she had secretly harbored for him all her life. Why not? Stranger fairy tales had happy endings.

* * *

Trip caught up with T'Pol as she emerged from the turbolift. "Observation Lounge?" he asked. She nodded, and he fell into step beside her.

T'Pol remained intensely curious as to what had transpired during old T'Pol's final hours, but she said only, "I am glad you were able to be with Lorian and his mother."

Trip nodded. "Me, too."

She hesitated. "Was it...difficult?"

He studied his boots as they walked on. "Yeah. But also enlightening. It put a lot of things in perspective." He smiled at her then, a warm smile of genuine affection.

T'Pol almost lost her footing. She always found herself completely disarmed when Trip smiled at her like that. Concentrating on keeping her pace even, she pondered his mood. She had expected melancholy from him, not this...buoyancy. What had happened in that room?

Trip knew he must be confusing the hell out of T'Pol, but he couldn't help it. He could hardly feel his feet touching the deck. He wanted to pick her up and whirl her around and shout it to the heavens: _She loves me!_

He ought to be feeling terrible, he supposed, knowing that her love was just one more precious gift they couldn't share because of that skunk husband of hers. But as the shock of hearing her words had worn off, Trip had felt a rush of jubilation. He was no longer a solitary torchbearer of unrequited love. At last he knew for certain that she loved him in return. His heart felt lighter somehow, his hurt more bearable. All the yearning hidden beneath their friendship, all the willpower needed to keep from acting on his feelings—now Trip knew T'Pol was going through the same struggle. They were doing it for each other, for her love as well as his own.

Trip figured he would come down to earth once Lorian's people were all squared away, and he was back trying to ignore the big ol' skunk in the room. But until then, he would enjoy the happy, full feeling in his heart.

For a moment, he considered spilling out his feelings to T'Pol—but he caught himself. It was different for her. She was locked to a ball-and-chain named Koss, and she would never be free. Not in Trip's lifetime, anyway. Bad enough that she was gonna be yanked off _Enterprise_ sooner or later, effectively ending their close friendship. Knowing that he loved her would just be more torture for her.

Trip and T'Pol arrived at the Observation Lounge and entered, staying near the doorway...because the room was stuffed to the gills with Lorian's people. However, not a one noticed the pair's entrance. Karyn had them all spellbound: she was telling a story.

"Some were subtle," she was saying. Like a shy wallflower, she squeaked, "Uh, sir, maybe you'd have time later for a cup of coffee in the mess hall?" Her audience chuckled.

"Others were more direct." Using Lorian as a convenient prop, Karyn grabbed his shoulders and declared forcefully, "Commander, I want to have your baby!" The crowd laughed, Archer along with them. Even Trip found himself chuckling, as T'Pol watched the proceedings in bafflement.

Karyn looked to Lorian, and he smoothly picked up the tale. "But Trip politely declined every overture. It soon became apparent that he only had eyes for the ship's first officer."

Trip realized with a start that they were telling THE story. His first instinct was to hide under the nearest table...until he saw Archer's rapt expression. And then he caught the look on T'Pol's face: embarrassment, curiosity, and fascination, all rolled into one priceless wide-eyed stare.

Trip backed up against the wall, so he could watch them all as the story unfolded.

T'Pol saw herself all too vividly as she listened to Karyn and Lorian's words. Part of her wished desperately to be away from all these people; she was having great difficulty controlling the emotions roiling within her. But she needed to hear more. She wanted to experience what it was like to find love with Trip, and embrace it freely, even if only through a story from long ago and far away. It would comfort her, this echo of their deep abiding love, when she was gone from _Enterprise_ and Trip, and all she had left were memories.

By the time Karyn got to the part in T'Pol's quarters, she had everyone suspended in enthralled, breath-held silence. "...Because even though Vulcans don't show their emotions, they feel them deeply all the same. T'Pol had never felt love before, and its power frightened her. She was overwhelmed."

Trip glanced at T'Pol. She was hanging on every word. Though her face was largely composed, her eyes shone with unshed tears. He could tell she was feeling a lot more just under the surface, barely holding it all in check.

Lorian extended his hand toward his storytelling partner as he continued. "Trip held out his hand to her and said, 'Trust me. Let me help you. If you feel yourself falling, I'll hang onto you, and I won't let go.'"

"He was offering not only his help, but his heart," Karyn added. A collective romantic sigh drifted up from the listeners. Trip shook his head, marveling.

Karyn turned back to Lorian—and took his outstretched hand. For an instant he looked surprised, before his expression recovered its normal Vulcan calm. But Trip had seen the slip. Evidently this wasn't part of their regular performance.

Interesting.

"She took his hand, and they both held on tight." Karyn was talking to their audience, but her eyes were on Lorian. "His touch reassured her, and she said, 'I have missed you very much.'"

Her steady gaze was beginning to fluster Lorian. He blinked and swallowed before he could find his voice. "He answered, 'I'm not going anywhere.'"

Lorian's crew watched, mesmerized, as their captain and first officer played out the love story with such achingly tender realism.

Trip could hardly believe his eyes. He glanced at Archer—to find the captain already looking at him, with the same delighted surprise.

Karyn lightly stroked Lorian's cheek with her free hand, drawing a startled little gasp from him. With an effort, he held himself still, plainly amazed by the affection he saw in her deep brown eyes.

"Then, ever so gently," she continued, "he kissed her." She moved toward him. As if hypnotized, Lorian met her halfway, and they shared a soft, sweet kiss. There was a wave of tender "awwws" from the onlookers.

Karyn drew back, a bit shy now. She searched Lorian's face, her expression hopeful, but uncertain. Lorian looked a little lightheaded as his lips quirked up in a tiny, enchanted smile. Karyn simply glowed as she smiled happily back at him.

Trip grinned. _I'll be damned._

Karyn continued the story, since Lorian was clearly in no condition to speak. "She left him breathless, his head spinning. She was in a similar condition, her heart pounding..." She heard a few chuckles from the audience, and she couldn't help laughing too, as she realized she had pretty much just described Lorian and herself. She held their joined hands to her heart. "Don't let go," she told him softly.

Lorian was coming out of his fog, his blue eyes warming with a dawning affection of his own as he gazed at her. "I promise."

Slowly, they remembered they were still the focus of nearly a hundred pairs of eyes. Karyn recovered first, letting loose of Lorian, becoming the storyteller once again. "Then they got married. But that's another story."

She was met by a ripple of laughter and applause. The whole room seemed to blink back to the real world, as the kids jumped up and the grown-ups exchanged satisfied nods and comments.

Trip sidled up to T'Pol, whose expression was wistful. "You okay?"

"Remarkable," she murmured softly. "To witness the beginning of love."

The sweet sadness in her voice tore at his heart. She looked so beautiful to him, with that faraway longing in her eyes. He ached to hold her, more than ever.

"Look—it's them!"

Suddenly every eye seemed to be focusing on them, every face shining with something akin to awe. Whispers shot through the crowd. "Trip and T'Pol...Lorian's dad...T'Pol looks so young..."

The two froze, unsure of how to react. Then there were children surging forward, gathering around them, taking their hands, a few even hugging them. Trip glanced at T'Pol, quickly taking in her mortified shock, and grabbed her hand, drawing her close beside him. "They must think we're Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus," he joked lightly.

"More like Sleeping Beauty and Prince Charming," Karyn said, coming forward to rescue them. She began disengaging the kids. "Remember what we taught you about the two timelines?" she told them. "This Trip and T'Pol haven't lived the life we tell you about in the stories."

"Stories?" T'Pol asked Trip warily.

"Like bedtime stories," Trip explained. "The ship's oral history. You heard the first one. That's how we—the other 'we'—got together, on their _Enterprise_. We're like some kinda fairy-tale love story to them."

T'Pol's eyes widened. "But—Koss—"

"They don't know about him. I only told Lorian."

T'Pol edged behind Trip, exceedingly uncomfortable with the attention they were still getting. Trip decided it was time for a little deflecting. He parked his hands on his hips, giving the gathered kids a mock scowl. "I dunno about this...everybody knowin' what's gonna happen except the two of us? Doesn't seem quite fair."

He got a laugh from the onlookers. Behind him, he felt T'Pol relax the tiniest bit against him.

A little girl edged up to him, wide-eyed and breathless. "Did you tell her you love her yet?"

Trip kept his face in neutral as his mind raced. _She's not free. Ball-and-chain Koss. Don't let her know. Don't let her see. _He gave the girl an exaggerated shushing. "Naw!" And then, to the whole group, "And don't y'all rush me." Again, everyone laughed.

Behind him, T'Pol kept her cool Vulcan mask carefully in place. She even managed to play along, raising an eyebrow at Trip's words, which elicited more laughter from the assemblage. However, she couldn't help but wonder why he kept his back turned to her, as if he were endeavoring to hide something from her.

Archer sauntered over, clearly enjoying himself. "Can I have your autograph, Mr. Charming?"

"Not you, too," Trip groaned. "This is weird enough as it is."

Lorian joined them as well. T'Pol, only too glad to change the subject, offered him a padd. "I have arranged for temporary quarters for your crew at Starfleet."

"Starfleet?" Trip asked. "Why— Oh. Debriefings, I'll bet."

Archer nodded. "_Lots_ of debriefings. To be led by Admiral Forrest and Ambassador Soval."

"As well as examinations by Starfleet Medical," T'Pol added. "Including DNA profiling."

Trip grinned at Lorian. "The Vulcan Science Directorate is gonna be pretty peeved, seein' as how you're unavoidable proof of the existence of time travel. And a Vulcan-human hybrid, to boot. "

"Indeed?" Lorian noted mildly. "I would think they would welcome the opportunity to have their horizons widened, so to speak."

"The Vulcan High Command likes their horizons exactly the way they are," Archer observed dryly. "But I'd say their world view is about to change, whether they want it to or not."

* * *

They dressed old T'Pol in traditional Vulcan burial robes and laid her in a torpedo tube. Then they boarded Shuttlepod One to bid farewell to her, in much the same way that Lorian and his mother had said good-bye to Lorian's father decades ago. 

Trip flew the shuttle as close to the Sun as possible before releasing the torpedo tube. The shuttle's momentum and the Sun's gravitation pull took it the rest of the way. Trip and T'Pol flanked Lorian, the three of them watching together until the sleek black tube vanished into the brilliant, blinding brightness.

* * *

As Lorian's people made ready to set foot on Earth for the first time, _Enterprise's_ crew mingled among their descendants, filling them in on the events of recent months. They passed along names of relatives to contact, and places to stay, once Lorian's people got their land legs.

Checking in with Karyn on the status of the departure preparations, Archer was touched to notice Malcolm in a corner with the family of Corporal Hawkins, relating with solemn pride how Hawkins had given his life to save Malcolm's away team on the mission that was key to destroying the Xindi weapon. A short time later, Archer saw a similar heartfelt meeting between Hoshi and the descendants of Major Hayes, as she told them of his heroism in helping to rescue her from her Xindi-Reptilian captors.

* * *

Trip, T'Pol, and Lorian returned to _Enterprise_ to learn that the crew's leave had abruptly ended. Archer had new orders: the ship was to launch in a matter of hours in search of renegade Augments in the Borderland. Lorian's crew began shuttling down to the surface a dozen at a time, after hurried, emotional good-byes between newfound family members, along with promises to stay in contact. 

Lorian stopped by sickbay to thank Phlox for the care given his crew, his mother in particular. Before leaving, he paused. "Phlox, I have no wish to breach doctor-patient confidentiality...but I'm aware T'Pol is going through a difficult time. I trust you're doing everything you can to help her?"

Phlox nodded, and smiled. "And she has Commander Tucker's constant support and friendship, which have proven to be the most beneficial treatment of all."

Lorian nodded. "Thank you, Doctor."

* * *

As T'Pol and Lorian headed for the Launch Bay, T'Pol found herself talking to him about her marriage, T'Les and Koss, duty and responsibility, and regrets. It was a welcome relief to be able to talk to someone, at last.

T'Pol found it surprisingly easy to talk to Lorian now. It had been so difficult the first time they met, doubtless because she had still been so reluctant to accept what she was feeling for Trip. During the intervening months, however, she had embraced her love for Trip, and given him up, and gotten him back again as a treasured friend. Compared to that rocky emotional road, feeling comfortable in the company of a 101-year-old son was quite elementary.

"I have reviewed my decision countless times," she mused to Lorian, her face shadowed by lingering doubt. "I made the only logical decision open to me. I was responsible for my mother's difficulties, and only I could alleviate them. She is...my mother."

"I understand," Lorian replied quietly. "To save my mother, I gave up my final chance to destroy the first Xindi weapon."

T'Pol stared at him in shock. "We couldn't prevent its launch," Lorian explained. "I could have put _Enterprise_ in its path and self-destructed, in an attempt to blow up the weapon as well. But I didn't. I couldn't kill my crew...I couldn't do harm to my mother." He looked steadily at T'Pol. "It was an impossible choice, but I had to choose. Just as you had to."

T'Pol remained troubled. "Still, I wonder...am I causing him needless suffering? Would it be better to end our friendship and allow him to move on?"

Lorian took her hand. "His decision to remain at your side, as your friend, was his choice. I believe he would deeply regret having chosen another path."

T'Pol squeezed her son's hand and nodded, reassured.

* * *

"What's your crew's next move?" Archer asked Karyn, as they rounded up the curious kids wandering the Launch Bay and herded them into the last shuttle. "Have you discussed it with them?"

"Some plan to locate family members," Karyn replied. "Others just want to travel for a while—see the Earth they've only heard about. But most of us are hoping to join Starfleet. We do have plenty of field experience..."

Archer laughed. "That's an understatement."

Karyn smiled. "Lorian and I will discuss it with Admiral Forrest, see what requirements we'd have to meet."

"I'll talk with him too, when we get back," Archer said. "What about you and Lorian?"

"Lorian's a born leader, of course. And I love my job—I can't imagine doing anything else."

Archer eyed her. "I meant...what about you and Lorian?"

Karyn blushed. "We haven't had a chance to talk. But the way he looks at me now is...different."

A smile crept onto her face that Archer could only describe as _dreamy_. He beamed. "I expect to be kept apprised of the situation."

She giggled as her blush deepened. She looked adorable to him. "You're nosy."

"Yes, I am." He gave her a long, loving hug, and a kiss on the cheek.

"Stay safe, Papa," she said, with a warm smile.

"See you soon," he replied. He watched her climb into the shuttle with a little pang of regret. Damn, he was already missing her.

"I'd watch the clinginess, Grandpa," Archer heard behind him. Trip was at the doorway. "She's not a little girl. I'll bet she could fly rings around you in a flight simulator."

"I can't help it," Archer protested. "I've never had anyone to fuss over before, besides Porthos. Suddenly having family...it still kind of takes my breath away."

"Tell me about it." Trip got a mischievous gleam in his eye. "Karyn and Lorian... Let's see. If they got together, that'd make me your grandson-in-law, twice removed, in an alternate timeline..." He batted his baby blues at Archer. "Could I call you Papa, too?"

"Only if you want to get decked."

Lorian and T'Pol entered the Launch Bay, joining Trip. It was time for Archer to make himself scarce. He offered his hand to Lorian. "Give 'em hell down at Starfleet, Lorian."

Lorian shook his hand. "Safe journey, Captain."

Archer nodded to Trip and T'Pol as he left the bay. "We launch in fifteen minutes."

Trip looked from Lorian to the shuttle, where they could see Karyn through the open hatch, laughing and talking with the waiting passengers. "Karyn's a real sweetheart."

"A remarkable young woman," T'Pol agreed.

Lorian nodded, his expression softening with fondness as he watched her. "Yes. I'm beginning to see that now."

Trip hesitated, finally sticking out his hand. Lorian took it, then said, "It's been a long time since my father gave me a 'bear hug.' I find I have missed it."

Trip happily obliged, holding Lorian close. "If we weren't about to leave, I'd be going down there with you, camera in hand, waiting for that perfect shot of Soval's face when he gets an eyeful of your DNA profile."

Lorian gave his father a look of mock reproach. "It is unseemly of you to take such delight in an intractable man's shock."

Trip smiled, unrepentant. "Thank you kindly."

Lorian and T'Pol shared a gentle embrace, and then he stood back, regarding them both with open affection. "Take care of each other. I look forward to seeing you on your return."

He started for the shuttle...then paused, turning back, his expression thoughtful. "Mother, regarding your marriage to Koss...there are inconsistencies in the facts as presented."

T'Pol traded a curious glance with Trip. "Explain."

"You told me that Koss stated his motive for marrying you was to obey his parents' wishes," Lorian went on. "And to rectify a dishonor committed against his family when you refused their ultimatum to return to Vulcan three years ago and proceed with the ceremony."

"Yes."

Lorian's brow knitted faintly. "I find it puzzling that he would seek to restore his family's honor by marrying a woman whose professional reputation is tainted, whose personal conduct is marked by uncontrolled emotional outbursts, and who is even allowed by that family to abandon the strictly-observed practice of residing with her husband for the first year of marriage."

T'Pol, uncertain now, turned to Trip again. He shrugged. "Simple. She humiliated him by dumping him before."

"Humiliation is a human emotion," Lorian pointed out. "It would be irrelevant in this case. However, it brings up still another inconsistency: why now? Why did he not insist on this marriage a year ago, or two years? The dishonor in question existed then as well."

Trip felt a curious excitement beginning to build inside him. He tried to tamp it down until he heard Lorian out.

"What is relevant," Lorian continued, "is that, by marrying Mother, Koss appears to have succeeded only in further damaging his family's honor, rather than restoring it. He gains nothing from the arrangement." Lorian turned to T'Pol. "Unless he has another motive for marrying you that he has not revealed."

"What are you saying?" Trip asked quietly.

Lorian raised an eyebrow. "Merely that this marriage is not logical. I see no credible evidence to indicate that it will be long-lasting."

Trip and T'Pol stared at him, thunderstruck, as he boarded the shuttle. He glanced back, giving them that little Lorian-smile, his blue eyes twinkling. "Then again, what would I know of the future?"

The hatch swung shut behind him.

* * *

Trip and T'Pol headed toward the turbolift, walking in perfect unison, afraid to speak.

The silence stretched out.

Finally Trip couldn't stand it any longer. "What do you think?"

"Lorian is exceedingly intelligent," T'Pol ventured cautiously. "And able to analyze the situation from a fresh perspective."

They reached the turbolift and boarded. As it rose toward the bridge, they stood shoulder to shoulder, eyes front.

"Nothing has changed," T'Pol said.

"No," Trip agreed. You're still married."

"Yes."

They listened to the hum of the turbolift, still not looking at each other.

"I love you," Trip said, slowly and clearly. "I am hopelessly, desperately in love with you. Utterly and forever."

T'Pol swayed a little as his words sent a wave of joy washing over her. "I love you as well," she replied, with the same careful, measured certainty. "In fact, you are the only man I have ever loved."

An ecstatic smile lit up Trip's face. Still facing front, he reached out, and she took his hand.

They held hands until the lift doors opened. Then, smoothly, they separated, heading to their respective stations on the bridge, Trip still smiling, T'Pol's eyes sparkling.

For the first time in forever, they both felt hopeful.

-fin-


End file.
